Bill Callahan (of Smog) played Southpaw
Studio recordings of Bill Callahan, including those released under the alias Smog, make it clear that the main offering here is a memorable voice that promises to tell a story. His belongs to that family of voices which has a confident air of the old without actually having encountered it in the past long before it or in the aging that awaits in the future. So this much was to be expected from the show at Southpaw, and this much was held mostly true. There was a part of the audience that had understood this and come there expecting to be mesmerized, but there was the rest given to chattering. Consequently, from what I could tell, out of the voices of two girls talking loudly during a song came a series of “shut up” and “shhh”, and the next thing you know, someone had inevitably been punched by someone else. The band did not stop, but later Bill walked to the front of the stage to ask vaguely, but privately, if people were okay.
More after the jump.
In addition to Bill on guitar, the band consisted of a bass guitar, a fiddle and a system of percussion set up around the drums. Though the sound of the fiddle was impressively crisp and flowing, it was held high in prominence in every song, which was too much for my liking. Its persistence sometimes took away from the quality of storytelling, especially in songs like “Let Me See the Colts”. And though the drummer was dressed as if from an era dramatically different from Bill’s (3 to 4 decades ahead, with long blond hair and what I perceived to be a pinkish pair of pants), his percussive elements, mixed with the occasional melodica, worked the best.
Bill himself is a subject of curious interest, of course. He spoke little, admitted his first time playing in Brooklyn (someone responded, “Where have you been?”), and thanked the audience, calling them “beautiful people.” He plays again tonight, at Highline Ballroom.
Southpaw, Brooklyn
September 6, 2007
